


Hello, Tahiti

by PinkViking



Category: Red Dead Redemption
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Blow Jobs, Bottom John, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Idiots in Love, M/M, Masturbation, Period Typical Attitudes, Period-Typical Homophobia, Porn with Feelings, Red Dead Redemption Spoilers, Secret Relationship, TB what TB?, Top Arthur, chapter 6 spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-11
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-10-08 07:25:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17382242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkViking/pseuds/PinkViking
Summary: Arthur and John’s relationship is thrown into chaos when Dutch’s latest plan goes south.





	1. Bastille

**Author's Note:**

> This fic contains spoilers for chapter 6. 
> 
> I have taken some liberties though and have changed a lot about what happens in Chapter 6. I have also completely removed TB from this world because TB sucks!!!
> 
> I hope you enjoy reading :)

John awoke to the early morning sun spilling in through the window from across the room. It was pooling brightly against his face causing him to squint uncomfortably. He groaned in protest and moved his palm in front of his eyes to protect them from the rays. John was not ready to wake up. He was far too comfortable being held tight in the strong, warm arms of his lover. 

This scene had become a regular occurrence over the past few months and John couldn’t imagine his life any other way. Life before Arthur was but a blur. How he managed to exist before all this, John wasn’t quite sure. 

John buried himself deeper against the man’s wide, tanned chest, hiding away from the unwanted light. Being so close to Arthur made him feel whole, something he hadn't ever felt before. He was like a giddy teenager again. It was pathetic really. 

John couldn’t help himself and placed a feather light kiss against the other man's collarbone, feeling Arthur's chest hairs tickle at his chin as he savoured the taste against his lips. He allowed himself to breath in deeply, taking in Arthur’s scent: cigarettes, pine trees and sex. It wasn't the most pleasant of smells but it was a familiar and welcome one and it caused John to reminisce on how this had happened between them. 

It all started with a spontaneous fuck after a home robbery. It was just the two of them. Just John and Arthur. 

They'd received a tip on the location of a wealthy government official's holiday home near Saint Denis from a wanderer in the Bayou. Never being one to shy away from making money, John insisted they take a look. The men surveyed the home from afar first and, noticing the place was empty, took their chances, picking the lock to let themselves inside. They were almost caught not long after as the homeowner arrived earlier than expected. The owner chased them through the mansion, pistol out, shooting at the two intruders. By some miracle they had managed to flee out through one of the back windows and through a large field. They were somehow unharmed and had succeeded in looting a large clip of cash and some fine jewellery. 

This was one of their biggest scores in some time. Their adrenaline was pumping with the excitement of it all and they started messing around. Shoving each other as they laughed in disbelief about how they’d actually managed to get away, and then, it just kind of happened. One moment they were catching their breath and fooling about in a field behind a home they'd just robbed and the next, Arthur was frantically taking John up against a tree. 

They had tried to deny their attractions for a couple of weeks after that incident. Brushing it off as a once off thing. A stupid mistake and something that couldn’t and wouldn’t ever happen again. It was wrong after all. But, that didn’t last. Two weeks later John had found himself in Arthur’s tent late at night, pressing himself down onto Arthur’s thick length as the older man gripped his hips tightly, whispering filthy and encouraging words against his ear with every thrust. It was dumb and risky of them. Anyone could have seen or heard what they were doing but that just made it all the more exciting. They just couldn’t help themselves. John was drawn to Arthur like a magnet. 

For a while after it was just fucking, nothing more. They would sneak off as frequently as they could without arousing suspicion, have their way with one another, and then part ways like it meant nothing. However, after a month or so, it soon developed into something more. John found himself craving Arthur’s touch more often. Wanting to kiss and embrace him and most of all John wanted to be with Arthur in every sense. Just the sight of the other man could send chills of desire through his body. 

It seemed Arthur wanted the same as their quick meaningless fucks turned into soft, intense love making. When they were done, instead of leaving without a word, they would lay together naked in each others arms. Arthur would tell John stories of his travels and of the strange and wonderful people he’d met along the way and John would listen to every word until he’d fall asleep. Arthur would always hold onto him throughout the night as though he was scared John would disappear if he dared to let go.

“You alright there?” Arthur’s gruff, sleep riddled voice startled John from his thoughts and John flushed. 

“Yeah, I’m alright.” he answered, propping himself up on his elbow to give himself a better view of the older man’s tired face. John noticed as Arthur let out a sigh of relief, shifting his arm out from where John had been crushing it as they slept. “Sorry 'bout that.” he laughed, and placed a small kiss on Arthur's numb shoulder. 

Arthur smiled and flicked his wrist in a dismissive way before gesturing for John to come closer. Which John did. Arthur brought his head up a little to meet John half way and pressed their lips together. The kiss was soft at first but slowly deepened the longer it went on. Arthur sucked and licked at John’s lower lip in that way that made him melt against the older man, a soft moan escaping his throat. It was all very sickly sweet for two grown men, but they liked it. 

“We should get goin’. Dutch is expectin’ us,” Arthur said against John’s lips as the kiss continued. “Got a big job comin’ in.” He tilted his head, lapping his tongue against John’s, pulling a low groan from deep within the younger man. “Can’t be late.”

“Mmm, do we have to?” John leaned back to catch his breath and calm himself down. His body had reacted strongly to the kiss. John didn't want to leave and he knew exactly what he’d rather spend the day doing. He brought his hand down and under the thick blanket to grip at Arthur’s hip, pulling it forward and in line with his own. Letting Arthur feel just how badly John wanted to stay in.

”Wouldn’t ya rather stay here ‘n’ mess around?” John whispered against Arthur’s ear as he slowly rocked their hips together. Their morning lust pressing and rubbing together between their stomachs. Arthur let out a deep growl in response, his hand lowering to grip John’s arse, helping to press their bodies closer, creating more friction between them. 

Arthur lowered his head against the younger man’s shoulder and breathed in harsh and deep as their hips continued to move. He was trying to collect his thoughts. John could see him working through his options - stay in and fuck and risk getting chastised by Dutch or leave and make Dutch happy. 

The older man lifted his sleep riddled face to look at John, eye's lidded and full partially of lust and frustration. Even when tired the man was gorgeous, John thought. Sometimes Arthur's classically handsome features made John feel inferior. He was just some greasy looking scrub with a messed up face and Arthur was like a model from one of those magazines the girls at camp would sometimes look at, with a blush across their cheeks. Why Arthur would want to be with him, he’d never know. John was just thankful he did.

“Ya killin’ me here, John.” The man groaned and rolled onto his back and away from John’s warm, tempting body. “As much as I’d love to stay in and have my way with ya, this job is important to Dutch. He’d skin us alive if we missed it. Now c’mon. Get washed up, we gotta go.”

Arthur playfully pushed John back onto the saloon bed they had hired for the night. He pulled the blankets back as he sat up, cock erect and swollen with desire on display. John bit his lip at the sight. He had no idea how Arthur had so much willpower whilst he was laying there going mad with arousal. 

The older man stretched, groaning loudly as his spine popped. John watched the muscles moving along the man's shoulders and back before he finally relented with a loud, frustrated sigh and began preparing to leave.

"You're such a fuckin' tease..." he muttered as he slipped on his pants. 

Arthur gave him one of those lopsided smirks, like he didn't know what John was talking about. 

Leaving was always an unhappy time for John. They were always together no matter what but once they emerged from their cozy little world and out into the real world again a switch would flick in both of them and all intimacy would disappear. They would become two outlaws who were nothing more than gang mates. It had to be this way. The world wasn’t ready for their kind but it didn’t make John feel any better about it. The fact that Arthur was so good at flicking that switch made it even harder for John. Arthur could act like John was nothing to him with such ease while John struggled to keep his hands to himself. 

After washing up John left the room first, as usual, and headed down to where their horses were hitched. Arthur joined him about ten minutes later. They couldn’t be seen leaving the same room together after all. It made John angry. He understood why they did it but right now he didn’t care. 

“It ain’t fair… hidin’ like this,” John said under his breath as he climbed onto Old Boy and waited.

Arthur frowned, breathing heavily through his nose. John knew he was annoyed. This wasn't the first time he'd brought up his displeasure with their situation. “I ain’t talking about this again, John.” Arthur responded as he hopped on top of his own horse. “This ain’t the time nor place for it.” 

“I know, I know.” John sighed and they both left the Bastille Saloon on horse back and headed towards Beaver Hollow. John hated this camp. 

The journey back to camp was a long one made to feel even longer than usual with Arthur still stewing over John’s earlier remarks. John knew it upset his partner when he brought up their unfortunate situation but John couldn't take the silence any more. He had to make it right, and the only way he knew how was to challenge Arthur to a race back to camp. Arthur couldn't resist a challenge, especially one he would always win. His horse was a beautiful, lean Arabian and John had big, chunky Old Boy. Still, John didn't mind losing to Arthur, it beat riding in silence and having the man annoyed with him.

As predicted Arthur pulled into camp first, cheering loudly at his victory. John and exhausted Old Boy dragging metres behind. 

”Looks like I win again, Johnny boy” he always rubbed it in Johns face. 

“Only ‘cause I let ya.”

Unfortunately Arthur’s little victory was quickly soured as Micah appeared from the nearby clearing to meet them. They hadn't even had the chance to hop off their horses yet and he was already there bothering them.

“The love birds finally decided to show up, huh?” came Micah’s slimy voice. His words made John’s body stiffen but Arthur seemed to brush it off as though he hadn’t just spent the night fucking John into a mattress.

“Shut ya damn mouth, Micah,” Arthur retorted “lest I shut it for ya?”

“Thought ya’ll went huntin’? I don’t see no game?” Micah ignored Arthur’s threat and glanced at the horses, craning his neck in an over-the-top way, like he was trying to see if an animal carcass was hidden somewhere. 

To be honest it had completely slipped John’s mind that they’d given hunting as an excuse for their overnight absence. Normally they were much more careful than this and would go out of their way to bring home some evidence of their ‘hunting trip’. This time they were careless. 

"It wasn't a good night for huntin' I guess," John tried to cover their tracks. Micah's expression told John he was unconvinced. Luckily, before Micah could pry further, Dutch and Bill had turned up to unknowingly take the pressure off them.

“Now, now boys,” Dutch’s unique voice was loud and carried across the camp to gather everyone's attention towards him. Dutch couldn’t stand to have anyone's focus on anything other than himself after all. “We've got a big lead on some big money! I'm gonna need everyone I can get to help on this one. It’s a big job and it's a dangerous job but, once this is done, we can say good riddance to this hell hole and hello, Tahiti!”

John quickly glanced at Arthur. Arthur had confided in him that he was having his doubts about Dutch and his ideas for a while now and John could see the concern written all over his lover’s face. Arthur kept his mouth shut though. Micah and Bill on the other hand reacted with glee, shouting and cheering at Dutch’s plan. Telling their beloved leader what a genius he was. They then began rounding up the gang. Everyone hopping on their horses and waiting for Dutch to give his next command. 

“Gentlemen, let’s rob ourselves a train!” Dutch shouted and spurred The Count into action. He was followed by Arthur, John, Bill, Micah, Javier, Charles, Sadie and a couple of Micah’s old gang mates. This really was going to be one hell of a job and little did John know it would change them all forever.


	2. Instincts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If the last few weeks had taught Arthur anything, it was to trust his instincts no matter what. Whether Dutch would trust him on this was another story all together.

“I got a bad feelin’ ‘bout this…” Arthur said lowly so only John could hear. 

The two men were trailing behind the rest of the group. Dutch was busy up front explaining his plan for a second time, but with the same amount of enthusiasm and grandeur as the first time. Dutch could make even the most idiotic plan sound like a good idea and Arthur had a feeling that's exactly what his old friend was doing now.

According to Dutch they were fixing to rob an army payroll train. They were going to just hop on, grab the money and hop off like it was nothing…simple as that. It was the dumbest thing Dutch had suggested yet and they’d done a lot of dumb stuff lately. Arthur couldn't see this going any other way but wrong. This wasn't him speculating either. This was from the firsthand experience he'd gained going up against the army over the last few weeks.

The more Dutch explained the plan the stronger and louder the alarm bells rang in Arthur’s gut. Telling him something terrible would happen. He just couldn't shake it. If the last few missions had taught him anything, it was to trust his instincts no matter what. Whether Dutch would trust him on this was another story all together.

“It’ll be fine. We do this kinda thing all the time.” Arthur knew John was trying to reassure him with his words coupled with a loving smile, but he paid no notice. He just turned his head forward to watch the gang ahead of them with a frown.

“Please, John, just promise me you’ll be careful.”

He could see John watching him from the corner of his eye before John said, “I promise.”

It didn't make Arthur feel any better.

The posse were now nearing Saint Denis. Dutch instructed them to slow down and act normal. They didn't want to draw any unwanted attention on their way through. Arthur couldn't help but scoff at that. There was nothing more conspicuous than a group like theirs, no matter the speed they were travelling at.

As they rode through the town many of the towns folk would turn to watch them, commenting on what such a large, rough group like that could possibly want in their city, or they'd try their best to avoid them completely. 

They arrived at the station and hitched their horses to the posts nearby. Everyone had then begun preparing for the upcoming task; taking their weapons and supplies from their saddlebags. 

“The train should be stopping here right about now.” Dutch glanced at his fancy pocket watch as he spoke, “we’re going to hitch a ride, nice and normal-like, then, when the train is coming up to the tunnel, we strike.” He closed his fist dramatically in front of his chest, “There will be no escape for anyone on board. We will leave no witnesses. Remember, this heist alone will get us enough money to start a new life.”

Arthur shook his head. He couldn't in good consciousness allow this to happen without at least voicing his concerns. He stepped in front of Dutch and spoke quietly as he turned the man away from the others. Arthur had to make sure the rest of the gang wouldn't hear him questioning their leader, couldn't embarrass the man in front of his minions. 

“Dutch, it ain't too late to stop this. I fear it is far too dangerous…” he had to convince him this was the wrong thing to do. Surely Dutch would listen to him?

“Quit second guessin’ everythin’, cowpoke.” Micah had slithered his way to Dutch's side like the snake he was. “Ya negativity is gettin’ tiresome…It's almost like you don't want this to succeed?”

“Get lost, Micah, this is between me ‘n’ Dutch.”

“Micah's right, Arthur. This is out last big chance. Have some faith in me for once.”

Arthur let out a deep sign, resigning to the fact that he had no say in this matter. Micah had gotten to Dutch. He'd been whispering and conspiring in his ear for months and it seemed Dutch had fallen for it all. His old friend no longer needed him. It was this moment that made Arthur realise how much he missed Hosea. Hosea would know what to do. He would know exactly what to say to get through to Dutch and make him see sense.

”Well okay then, Dutch.” Was all he could muster.

Arthur returned to John’s side, “looks like this is going ahead whether I like it or not.” He felt defeated.

John looked back at the others making sure they were paying them no mind and then quickly turned back. He subtly brought his rough hand to Arthur's and traced his pinky against the older man’s fingers. The only affection they could afford out in the open like this. Normally Arthur would have pulled away from such a public display of affection from John, but this time he allowed himself to leaned into the touch. Their eyes locked and neither of the men could look away. 

“Hey, I've got ya back and ya got mine, right?” 

Arthur's heart swelled. John could be such a sap sometimes but he enjoyed that about him. It was one of the many reasons he was so fond of the man. Arthur let himself tangle his fingers with John’s, squeezing tightly.

“Right.”

Their moment was interrupted abruptly by the sound of the whistle of the army payroll train. John quickly tore his hand from Arthur's and both men looked towards the tracks and then Dutch.

“Alright, gentleman let’s -” Dutch's didn't have a chance to finish what he was saying because the train, that was due to stop at the station, did not in fact stop at the station and kept on going.

“What the fuck? You said it’d stop here!?” Dutch shouted at Micah.

“I- It was supposed to!” Micah stuttered, his usual confidence seemed to have escaped him.

They all paused, watching as the train continued on, confused and unsure on what to do next. Dutch screamed at the group from the top of his horse, The Count “Get your damn arses on your damn horses and follow that train!!!”

The gang saddled up and took off after the payroll train, spurring their horses on as hard as they could. 

A little ways out from Saint Denis the armed guards had finally noticed the large posse riding up behind the train and began shooting without hesitation. When it came to the army it was always shoot now and ask questions later. The train was armed with Gatling guns and they were outnumbered three to one. This was a fools mission.

“Looks like we’ve been spotted. Get up on that train, take out the guards one carriage at a time,” Dutch instructed as bullets were flying all around them.

Javier was the first up followed closely by Sadie. The two took out the guard by the first mounted Gatling gun, making it easier for the rest to get on. Bill, Charles and Arthur were next up. 

Arthur turned around and reached an arm out to John, “c’mon, get on, hurry!” He called to his partner. John reached and gripped Arthur’s hand, and then it happened. Arthur's fear became a reality. A loud crack followed by a bullet whirling right by Arthur's face, planting itself directly into John’s shoulder. Blood squirted from the wound. So much blood.

John cried out loudly with pain and his grip on Arthur's hand loosened causing them to slip apart. Arthur watched in horror but he didn't have time to process what had just happened. He leaned over the railing of the carriage trying to grip any part of the younger man possible, clothes, a limb, anything but he wasn't fast enough. John fell backwards from his horse and tumbled roughly onto the hard, metal tracks. His body slumped and unmoving.

“JOHN!!!” Arthur cried, voice cracking as he shouted. He watched the limp body of his lover disappear into the distance as the train travelled in the opposite direction. He quickly turned to Dutch and Micah who were thankfully still on their horses and gestured frantically towards the tracks, “Go back for John! We can't leave him there,” he begged their leader.

Dutch nodded and he and Micah turned and left heading towards where john had fallen. Arthur watched them wide eyed, breathing heavily and wild with shock. Why was this happening? Why didn't he follow his gut? This was his fault. Would he never hold John in his arms again? All these thoughts were running madly through his mind until he was brought back to the present by a familiar voice and a soft hand on his shoulder.

“This ain't the time to sit around, Arthur,” came Sadie's voice over the sounds of shouting and gunfire “John will be fine but ya gotta survive this if ya wanna see him again.”

“Okay….okay.” Arthur’s voice was shaky and weak. Sadie was right, John would be fine. John was lucky. He had to believe that. Arthur let go of the railing and tried to compose himself. He couldn't die here, he needed to get back to John. Arthur vowed that once this was over he was going to take John away from this life. That thought would get him through this.

“Let's get this over with,” Arthur cocked his Lancaster and joined the fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter :)
> 
> Next chapter will begin to deviate from the game’s storyline a lot more.


	3. Heartache

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur arrives back at camp and is given some devastating news.

By some miracle the train heist was an overall success. There was a slight hiccup at one point when, somehow, the army had known they were coming and the gang were ambushed by a small troupe of soldiers. It was rough but they'd managed to fight them off thanks to the heavily armed train they were hitching a ride on. The Gatling guns had really come in handy. Once the hostiles were taken care of all that was left to do was to break into the vault, grab the cash and get out of there.

“Plant the damn dynamite already.” Arthur demanded impatiently. He wanted to get off this damn train and back to camp. He had to see John.

“A’riiiight, Morgan,” Bill grunted. “What crawled up your arse and died?” 

Arthur rolled his eyes. “Just hurry up.”

Bill stuck the stick of dynamite to the door of the vault and gestured for everyone to step back. He swiped the match across his shoe and lit the fuse, quickly jumping back and behind one of the crates to avoid the blast. The dynamite exploded with a loud crack causing everyone to duck, hands flying up to cover their ears in vain. 

A thick smoke coated the air and blocked their vision for a moment, a few of the gang coughed, lungs filling with dust.

“Holy shit,” Bill exclaimed once the smoke dissipated revealing a carriage full of bags of money and gold.

“We hit the fucking jackpot!” Javier said, pushing Bill out of the way to get a better look. Javier grabbed a bag and tossed it out to Bill, then another, this time tossing it to Charles. “Start loading up the horses!”

Dutch's plan had actually worked. Arthur was a little dumb struck by it. Were they actually getting out of here to start a new life? The idea of it gave him hope for the first time in a while. He couldn't wait to get back and tell John. 

Once the last of the bags were removed from the train and the horses were loaded up the posse headed back towards Beaver Hollow. Arthur rode his horse hard, he knew she was carrying extra weight but he couldn't bare to be away from John longer than necessary. He had to see how badly the man was injured. Arthur wanted to take care of him and then they could leave with their share of the money and never look back. 

After about an hour of riding the camp was finally in sight. As soon as Arthur was near enough to see the tops of the tents he jumped off his exhausted mare, leaving her unhitched with the bags of money for someone else to deal with. 

Arthur headed straight to John’s tent.

“John? Ya there?” He called softly, pulling back the tent flap to peer in. “We’re back, I missed ya.” Arthur blinked a couple of times to adjust his eyes to the darkened tent. John wasn't there. Arthur turned and looked around camp, he was confused. 

Dutch was sitting outside his own tent and Arthur walked quickly over. 

“Where's John? Is he ok?”

“I’m… I’m so sorry, son,” Dutch said, getting to his feet and placing his palm on Arthur's shoulder. “John didn't make it.”

Arthur let out a laugh, there's no way that was true. “Dutch, please. This ain't a joke.”

“I ain't joking. He got shot, Arthur, he fell from a moving train. He was gone when we found him.” Dutch gripped Arthur's shoulder tighter like he was trying to comfort the man.

Arthur just stood there blinking, trying to process what he had just been told. “Wh- no…that ain't right…” Arthur stuttered not knowing what he was trying to say. His brain wasn't registering anything, “I saw you go back for him?”

Dutch brought Arthur into a tight embrace and held him. “We’re all in shock, son. John was our family.” Arthur stood stiff and unmoving in Dutch’s arms.

Arthur felt his eyes sting as tears filled them, the realisation sinking in that maybe this wasn't a cruel joke. He shoved Dutch back, needing his space. Needing to process what was happening. Dutch looked hurt but he said nothing.

“Where's his body?” Arthur tried to keep his voice even but he couldn't stop the tear from rolling down his cheek. 

“We buried him not far from here.” Dutch was being vague.

“Where, Dutch?” Arthur’s voice was laced with frustration, his fists clenched as he loomed over his mentor and old friend. 

“We’ll go together and visit him soon.” The older man gripped Arthur's shoulder once more and gave a gentle smile. “Go take a break, I think ya need it. Let us take care of unloading.” And with that Dutch left towards the horses and the money. For someone who claimed to be upset, Dutch was awefully good at hiding it. Arthur swore he saw a small smile on the man’s face at the sight of those bags.

Arthur took a deep breath and exhaled loudly. He needed to get away from everyone. From this place. He walked out of camp and found his way into the forest nearby. The man sat himself down on a log and after a very brief pause all the sadness and grief he was holding down washed over him, hitting him hard. Arthur hunched over his knees, face in his palms as the tears burst from his eyes, as though a dam that had been keeping them back had broken.

“Why did I let this happen.” Arthur spoke to no one in particular. His heart ached in a way he hadn’t felt since his son died many years ago. He had forgotten how bad it felt. A bullet would be preferable to this. They were meant to have each other's back and Arthur let John down. Let him die. It was his fault.

“Arthur?”

The man stiffened and quickly wiped the tears from his face, not that it did any good, as Abigail softly walked to where he was seated. 

“Arthur, Dutch told me about what happened… I can't believe it.” She had been crying too. Abigail sat next to the man, shoulder to shoulder and sighed. “John and I, we didn't get along no more, we were two different people but we shared a son and I will always love him, and now my boy will grow up without a daddy…” she turned and buried her face against Arthur’s chest, body shaking as she cried. Arthur brought his arm around her shoulder and held her tight. 

“I’m so sorry for your loss, Abigail.” Arthur whispered, trying to be strong for the woman in his arms. 

“It’s your loss too though,” she lifted her face and looked Arthur directly in the eyes. “I know what you and John were to each other. He loved you so much. I could see it in the way he looked at you. I was jealous, I wanted him to look at me like that…”

Arthur found himself tearing up again, but he smiled, it was like a nasty prank, they'd hidden their relationship from everyone and in the end it seemed as though it wasn't as secret as they'd thought. 

“John was a mighty fool but I loved that fool with all my heart and now I’ll never get the chance to tell him.”

Abigail embraced Arthur and the two sat there together quietly until they heard the distant sound of footsteps and familiar voices. 

“Shhh.” Arthur pressed a finger to his lips as Abigail went to speak. He recognised the voice. Micah.

Arthur quietly crept from the log to one of the trees nearby and used it as cover. He gestured for Abigail to get low and she did. 

“Milton’s gonna be mad that Dutch escaped with the money.” Said Joe, one of Micah’s old gang mates. 

“It weren't meant to go this way,” Micah responded. “The army are a bunch a shit kickers. We gotta convince Dutch to leave right now. Before the Pinkerton get here and nab me.”

“Don't ya got immunity from them?”

“You idiot, the deal is off, the plan failed and Dutch got away. They’re going to hang me as soon as they get their hands on me.” The men's voices grew softer as they walked on through the forest in the direction of the caves.

Arthur's eyes widened. He knew it was odd that the army’s reinforcements showed up when they did. It made sense now. Micah had suggested this whole plan to Dutch to get them caught so he could get immunity. Micah was a rat…

As quietly as possible, Arthur snuck back to Abigail and spoke lowly. “Micah…he did all of this, he's a rat… you need to get Jack, Sadie, Charles, anyone you trust and go straight to Saint Denis. There is an abandoned house by the boatyard. Wait for me there.” 

The man got to his feet and helped Abigail up. “You can't waste time. I got a feelin' the Pinkertons are on their way.”

“What are you going to do?” She asked gripping his hand. 

“I need to convince Dutch that Micah ratted us out and grab the money so we can leave. I couldn't save John but I can save you and Jack.”

Arthur felt Abigail place something in his palm. He looked down and saw a key with some string around it. “It’s the key to the safe in the caves. Dutch has been hidin’ money in there. He’ll probably put most of the money from today in there too.” She laughed at Arthur’s confused expression. “I guess he trusted me to mind the key for him. Silly of him, really.”

“You sneaky girl.” Arthur hugged Abigail tightly and then gently pushed her off towards camp. “Go, hurry, I shall see you soon.”

She nodded and left. 

Arthur took a deep breath, calmed himself and headed towards the caves. He was going to make Micah pay for everything he had stolen from him. Micah would wish the Pinkertons had gotten to him first.


	4. Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Micah was right, he was going mad and was seeing ghosts.

Arthur removed his pistol from its holster at his hip, drawing the hammer back as he moved quickly and with purpose through the dense trees and shrubs. He wasn't concerned with being heard, in fact he wanted Micah to know he was coming. He was like a lion hunting a rat. Just the rat didn't know it yet.

“MICAH!!” Arthur shouted as he came upon the entrance to the cave. He knew he’d be there. Dutch and Micah would always head back here after a score. 

As he thought, both men, along with Joe and that other inbred lug that Arthur could never quite recall the name of, were already at the cave. They were carrying a large safe in their arms, getting ready to load it onto a wagon which was already full with the payroll bags from the mission earlier.

Arthur suspected that was the safe Abigail has spoken of. The one that fit the key he was currently carrying on his person. The whole scene was suspicious. 

“Whaddaya want, Morgan?” The slimy rat paused as Arthur pointed his loaded gun in his direction. Finger prepped on the trigger.

“Arthur?” Dutch slowly lowered his side of the safe and raised his hands out in front of him in a sign of peace. “What on earth are you doin’, son?”

“Well, I could ask the same of you two” Arthur waved his gun between the two men and the wagon. “Looks to me like you boys are plannin’ on runin’ off with all that money?”

Dutch chuckled in that irritating way he would when he wanted to make Arthur feel stupid. “Arthur, you’re being paranoid. Lower the gun, c’mon now.” Dutch took a few steps forward reaching out to place a hand on top the gun but Arthur was having none of that. He pointed it directly at Dutch as a warning. 

Dutch paused his advance.

“Dutch, you really gotta listen to me now.” Arthur began, hoping with all hope that for once he could get through to the man. “I heard Micah talkin’ with Joe. He ratted us out to the Pinkertons. He confessed, I heard it all.” Arthur pleaded with his eyes, he had to believe that after twenty years together his loyalty and words still held some weight.

The darker haired man looked from Arthur back at Micah, who had since dropped the safe, leaving his two gang mates to carry it to the wagon, and now had his hand hovering above his own pistol. 

“Cowpoke’s clearly lost his mind. What would I have to gain from doin’ somethin’ that stupid?” Micah had a talent for manipulation and Arthur could not allow him to succeed this time. 

“Immunity.” Arthur responded bluntly as he pointed the pistol back at the fair haired man. “Think about it, Dutch. It was Micah's idea to go after the money. They knew we was comin’ ‘n’ drew us away from the town by not stoppin’ the train. They ambushed us… he set us up, he… he got John killed.” He’d nearly gotten through the whole thing without his voice cracking with emotion but the last part caused his throat to tighten, voice waiving. 

Micah noticed because he latched onto it.

The man sneered “So that’s what this is all about, huh? Ya lost ya boy toy ‘cause of ya own incompetence and now ya lookin’ for someone else to blame for it?” 

“Micah.” Dutch said sternly, a look of confusion across his face as he was trying to add up the whole situation. 

Arthur saw red. “Don’t you fuckin’ talk about him or I will kill you right here, right now.” His voice was shaking with rage, finger trembling against the trigger as he tried his hardest to keep his cool. Micah was trying to get him to snap. Get him to lose his head so he could pounce. Arthur knew it but he couldn't stop himself from falling for it.

“Just like ya killed ya li’l lover boy?” Said Micah, still smirking. Arthur noticed Dutch’s eyes widen as he glanced at him, perhaps he’d pieced together what Micah was hinting at.

That was it. Arthur snapped and he pulled the trigger, missing Micah’s head by an inch. “Last warnin’. I said, don’t fuckin’ talk about him.”

“You fuckin’ psycho!” Micah whipped his gun from the holster pointing it at Arthur. His two buddies, who had long since packed the safe in the wagon and had cautiously moved to Micah’s side, followed suit. 

Dutch reached for both his pistols. One aimed at Arthur and the other aimed at Micah and his boys. “Now I don't know what has gotten into you boys but I don't like it. I… I hadn't realised you and John were, uhh…and I’m sorry he’s gone… but -”

“Ya don't even care, Dutch…” Arthur’s world was crumbling around him. All it took was one single day for everything to burn to dust.

“I do care. How dare you question that. Just, death is part of the job. You know it and John knew it.”

Dutch spoke the truth but it didn't make his loss any less painful. 

The four men now stood in a silence that was so loud it was deafening. No one knew who would make the first move or if they should lower their weapons so they just stayed as they were, eyeing each other with suspicion and paranoia. 

Micah made an ever so slight gesture at Joe, who nodded in return and began slowly moving towards the wagon. Arthur guessed his time was close to up. The four of them were going to shoot him, take the money and run. There wasn't much he could do one versus four.

Then, the silence was broken.

“I think ya'll forgot somethin’ back there on them tracks…” that sweet, husky voice.

Arthur dropped his guard and turned around to see John standing behind him with his gun directed at Micah. He was caked in blood, left arm limp from the bullet wound. He looked like absolute shit. Like someone who had come back from the dead.

“John?” Micah was right, he was going mad and was seeing ghosts.

“Hey, Morgan. Missed ya.” John limped to Arthur's side, not once lowering his gun from Micah's direction and Arthur just stared, mouth agape like a stunned mullet.

“You were dead…Dutch buried you?” Arthur stuttered not believing what his eyes were showing him. 

“Dutch left me to die is what he did.”

Arthur turned to look at his old friend who has guilt written all over his face. “Why…?” Was all he could think to say. What else could he say?

“I…he…” for once Dutch had no words. He had no excuse. No reason. No fancy speech. Nothing. He was no longer the man Arthur thought he was. Dutch was just as bad as Micah and, as far as Arthur was concerned, the two men deserved each other. 

There was the distant sound of gunshots in the direction of camp and horse hooves heading their way. 

Everyone turned as Sadie burst out from the shrubbery on the back of her horse. She opened her mouth to speak but paused briefly, clearly a little puzzled by the scene before her and the fact that the ghost of John Marston was standing at Arthur’s side, but she shook it off. 

“Sadie?” Arthur was annoyed. She was meant to be heading to Saint Denis with Abigail. “What are you doing here?”

“Abigail told me everything. I couldn't just leave ya. Anyway, I’m sorry to ruin ya little party but the Pinkertons are here. We gotta run. Now! Bill and Javier and a couple others are holding them off but there’s only so much they can do…”

Arthur turned to Dutch. “I fuckin’ told ya.” Now wasn't the time to rub it in but he couldn't help himself.

Micah and Dutch traded a glance and then, as swift as a couple of cougars, they pulled their triggers, shooting at Arthur and John as they leaped towards the wagon. Thankfully in their hurry the bullets missed. 

“Sadie, don’t let them take that wagon.” Arthur instructed as he shot back hitting the second of Micah’s mates in the leg causing him to fall to the ground screaming in agony. Arthur hurried towards Micah, casually shooting the man he’d just wounded in the chest as he went. Dutch had already made it onto the wagon, along with Joe, with Micah trailing behind. 

“Go, go, go.” Micah shouted as he just managed to grab onto the wagons railing, waving his hand frantically, but Arthur was hot on his tail. He gripped the rat’s leg and tore him off and onto the ground at his feet, the wagon driving off without him. 

“Get Dutch, I’ll deal with this.” Sadie and John nodded and left on the back of her horse, Hera.

Micah, whom he hadn't properly restrained yet, managed to kick Arthur’s legs out from under him, causing him to lose his balance and stumble to the dirt, leaving him wide open. Micah quickly jumped onto him with his knife out, slicing deep into Arthur’s abdomen. Arthur shouted in pain as Micah twisted the blade and pulled it out, now pointing it at Arthur’s chest. Arthur brought his hands up to catch the knife before it could sink into his flesh a second time.

“I’m gonna enjoy killin’ ya,” he growled as he leaned all his weight on the hilt. “Fuckin’ queer.” He spat in Arthur’s face.

Arthur’s strength was waining as the blood leaked from his stomach. At least John would get the money and move on, he found himself thinking, accepting that this was probably where he would die. 

Arthur closed his eyes as his hands loosened on the knife but the pain he was expecting never came, only the sound of a gunshot above him. He felt something thick and sticky drip onto his face and neck. Arthur squinted his eyes open between the wet substance and saw that Micah was now sporting a fancy new bullet hole between the eyes. 

The man's body slumped heavily onto him and Arthur struggled to push it off. He felt trapped and suffocated. Arthur craned his neck to look over the limp bod and saw John walking in his direction, slipping the smoking gun back in it's place by his hip. John saved him.

“Here, I got ya. Careful now.” John. Beautiful, sweet John removed the body and helped Arthur to his feet. The elder man brought an arm to his wound, holding it closed as good as he could, his other arm gripped tight around John’s shoulders.

“You fool, Marston. I told ya to go with Sadie.” Arthur said with a wince as he looked into the man’s dark eyes, expression full of worry.

“Yeah, and if I listened to ya, you’d be dead, plus Sadie’s a mad woman…she didn't need me at all.” John began moving the two of them towards the road behind the cave.

Arthur gripped onto John’s shoulder tightly like he was making sure John was really there and he sighed heavily. “I thought ya were gone, John… I didn’t know what I was gonna do without ya…”

“I know, love,” the man smiled gently, hugging his arm around Arthur, placing a quick kiss to his temple, “but we’ve gotta to get out of ‘ere right now before we both die for real this time.”

Sadie had returned with the wagon she’d successfully stolen back from Dutch, money and the safe still in the back. She pulled up next to the men hopping off to help them into the carriage. Dutch and Joe were no where to be found. Climbing back on top and into the drivers seat, Sadie urged the horses to move on with a loud “YAH!”

“Where’s Dutch?” John asked, hissing as the bumpy road knocked his injured arm around.

“Tied him to a tree.” Sadie laughed as she looked back at the two men with a smug grin. “Left him for the Pinkertons to find…or maybe he’ll get mauled by wolves instead.” She shrugged like she’d be ok with either option. 

Arthur couldn't help but feel a little sad. Dutch had been his whole life for twenty years. He raised him. He was basically his father and Arthur gave him everything he had, but then he looked at John. The love of his life was actually sitting by his side when just moments ago Arthur thought he had died. That’s when he knew that this was the right thing to do.

John saw Arthur watching him as he pressed against the other man's wound tightly with his good hand, trying to keep the bleeding to a minimum. He looked behind in Sadie’s direction and, noticing she had her back to them, leaned down, pressing his forehead to Arthur’s. Both men closed their eyes and inhaled each others scent, content with the warmth of just being close to one another once more. Both silently promising never to leave the others side again. 

Despite being half dead and in pain, Arthur was happy and had no time for shame anymore. He reached his arm up and gripped the back of John’s neck, curling his fingers in his long, black hair and urged him down lower so their lips could meet in a soft, loving kiss. John sighed against him and raised his head to press his lips to Arthur’s forehead. Letting them linger against his partners skin as Arthur brought an arm up to embrace the younger man tightly, like he was scared John would disappear again if he let go. 

“So, what now fellers?” Sadie asked awkwardly from the front. Keeping her eyes fixed on the road. 

Arthur removed his head from John’s and looked out the back of wagon from where he was laying in a small puddle of his own blood. “Well, Abigail, Jack and some of the others are waiting for us at Saint Denis. So, I say we start there…then after that, well, I hear Tahiti’s nice.”

John and Sadie laughed at the irony of it all and the three headed towards the city to meet with the others, leaving Dutch and the sound of gunfire behind them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really love writing dialogue lmao. I’m worried there’s a little too much in this chapter but eh, it was fun to write.
> 
> Thanks so much for reading this chapter. Hope to get the next one out soon <333


	5. Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur laughed through gritted teeth, head rolling on his shoulders weakly. Even after death Micah was still fucking with him. Haunting him from beyond the grave. Now they could hunt each other down in the after life for all eternity.

Muffled voices and distant sounds. Vision blurry. Arthur felt like he was in a vacuum. He’d lost a lot of blood on the ride to Saint Denis and it was starting to really affect him. He could see shapes hovering above him, feel himself being moved but had no idea what was going on around him. It didn't help that it was dark out now, the lights from the buildings surrounding them blinding him further. 

“Stay with us, Arthur.” He could hear a familiar, calming voice as he was carried through what he suspected was a building, then up some stairs. 

“Where’m I?” He slurred like a drunk. Arthur briefly wondered if maybe he was drunk but the aching pain in his abdomen reminded him of the truth. 

“Shh save ya strength,” another voice said, this one more feminine than the first. “Someone go fetch a doctor, do whatever necessary to get them here. I ain't sure how much time we got.” From the words he could make out, it sounded quite like he was dying. 

Arthur laughed through gritted teeth, head rolling on his shoulders weakly. Even after death Micah was still fucking with him. Haunting him from beyond the grave. Now they could hunt each other down in the after life for all eternity.

A hand gently gripped the back of his neck and Arthur felt himself being lowered onto the ground. It wasn't as hard and cold as he expected. Someone must have laid out some blankets for him. How kind. A wet towel was placed upon his forehead. It felt nice. Arthur hadn’t realised how hot he was until now. He was sticky with sweat, overheating but somehow cold and shivering all at once. 

He could hear some muffled whispers from the doorway but couldn't quite tell what was being said. Then someone grabbed his hand, holding it tightly against their chest. Arthur rolled his head to the side, trying to get a look at who it was. He could make out the figure of a man, familiar shaggy, black hair and large scars across his face. 

“John.” Someone called from across the room. 

“Yeah?” John responded, never taking his eyes off of Arthur. 

“We’ve gotta patch ya arm up before it gets infected, if it ain’t infected already that is.”

“I’m fine.” John squeezed Arthur’s hand tighter, bringing it up to his lips to press a kiss to the knuckles. His eyes were closed as he held Arthur’s hand to his face. “Don’t you fuckin’ die, arsehole,” he heard John whisper against his skin. “You can't steal my thunder.” 

Arthur smiled and then everything finally faded to black.

Light poured in through the cracks in the boarded up window and birds sung their daily wake up call. It would have been a pleasant way to wake up if it wasn't for the pounding ache in his head and stomach. Arthur groaned and tried to sit up but it was too painful. He pulled the blanket up and craned his neck, noticing a large, blood soaked bandage on his side. Someone did a good job patching him up. So, because he couldn't move, he tilted his head and squinted through tired eyes at his surroundings instead.

The room was largely empty save for some old, dusty drawers and a few broken crates. The room was familiar and he remembered it was the abandoned house he’d told Abigail to hide out in. The one they all hid in after the failed bank robbery so many months ago. 

Arthur continued to survey the rooms until his eyes stopped on a figure slouched in the corner, sleeping with a hat over his face. A stupid smile spread crossed Arthur's mouth as he realised John had been watching over him as he recovered. 

“Hey, sleepyhead.” Arthur voice cracked as he spoke, throat feeling like someone had poured gravel into it for a laugh.

John shot up in a tizzy, hat falling from his face and onto the dusty floor. The young man looked around confused and then paused as his eyes fell onto the older man. 

“Holy shit, you’re awake…”

“Yeah, no shit.” Arthur laughed, “now who’s a man gotta kill to get a glass a water around here?”

John sprung to his feet and headed over to the drawers, grabbing a glass and a small plate. He brought them over to Arthur and sat by his side, holding the glass to Arthur’s lips. Arthur gulped the water down as fast as possible, choking as the liquid went the wrong way due to the angle his head was at. That didn't stop him from finishing the lot.

“You okay?” John asked, face full of concern. He looked tired. Arthur wondered if this was the first time John had slept since they got here. 

“Sure, I’m fine, just a bit sore.” Arthur responded, voice back to normal now that his throat was sufficiently lubricated. “How’s the arm?”

“Doctor patched it up after he was done with ya.” John rolled his arm to show Arthur he was fine but Arthur noticed the small hiss escaping from between the man’s teeth. It was obviously not as fine as John tried to have him believe.

After a moment of silence John offered the plate of fruit and crackers to Arthur. “You hungry?” He seemed a little awkward and unsure of himself. 

Arthur waved the plate of food away, “naw, don't think I could stomach any food right now.” He watched as the man placed the plate to the side and began to stand. 

“Well, I’ll go tell the others you’re okay then.” John spoke quietly.

Arthur gripped John’s wrist tight to stop him from leaving. “They can wait. C’mere, lay with me for a bit.” Arthur pulled the blankets back, offering the space next to him to John. He noticed relief flash across the younger man’s face as he quickly crawled over and laid on his side facing the older man. Both had their heads resting on the makeshift blanket roll pillow. They were watching each other intensely. John’s dark eyes scanning Arthur’s face like he was trying to commit every detail of it to memory.

John brought his hand up and cupped Arthur’s cheek gently, gliding his thumb across his skin and over his lips. “I’m so glad you’re alive.” He whispered softly. “I was really fuckin' scared.”

“I know.” Arthur said, leaning into the touch, closing his eyes briefly. “Hey, we both survived death yesterday, means we can survive anything now.” Arthur kissed John’s thumb as it traced his lips. 

“Yesterday?” John laughed with disbelief. “You was out cold for three days, Arthur.” John propped himself up on his elbow and brushed Arthur’s hair from his forehead. “Doctor said ya had a fifty-fifty chance of makin’ it. We’ve all been worried.”

Arthur was dumbstruck. “Three damn days?” No wonder he felt like absolute garbage. “We’ve been here far too long. Gotta leave before we’re found.” He went to sit up but John had placed a hand to his chest, pushing him back down against the blankets they were using as a mattress. 

“No way. Ya gotta rest for another few days at least.” John said with a frown. “Stop bein’ so stubborn and let me take care of ya for once. Everything is under control. We got Sadie, Charles and Uncle takin’ turns to watch the wagon…” 

Arthur scoffed “Uncle?”

John laughed, “yeah, he’s actually been pullin’ his weight since ya got hurt. I think even he’s been worried.” John idly traced his fingers across Arthur's chest and collarbone as he continued. “Abigail and the girls have been gatherin’ intel on how to sneak outta here when the time’s right.”

The sensation of John’s fingers against his skin caused Arthur to sigh. “They found anythin’?” He asked softly as his eyes wandered all over John’s face and neck. Drinking in the sight of him.

John leaned down, lips ghosting over Arthur’s as he spoke, “Yeah.” Arthur could feel the younger man's breath against his parted mouth. He wanted nothing more than for John to stop teasing him and kiss him already. “Found a skipper who’ll let us stow away on their cargo ship…for a price of course.” John moved his lips down from Arthur’s and pressed a soft kiss to his jaw instead, then moved onto his throat. “We can more than afford it now, so now all we gotta do is wait for ya to heal up and we can get outta here.”

It was impressive that everyone had managed to gather together to sort out their next move without Dutch, Hosea or Arthur telling them exactly what to do. He supposed they were never really given the chance until now. However, he didn't want to think about that at the moment. He wanted to be with John. 

Arthur couldn't take anymore of John’s teasing and gripped the dark haired man’s stubbled chin, forcing him to look into his bright blue eyes. It was really sinking in now just how close they both came to losing each other. Arthur desperately wanted to tell John just how much he meant to him. He wanted to tell him that when they were apart his heart ached worse than any stab wound and when they were together it felt like sparrows were fluttering in his stomach, but he couldn’t get the words out. He was never any good at expressing himself. Arthur blamed past relationships for that. 

John cocked one of those perfect eyebrows as he watched the man below him through lidded eyed, “everythin’ okay?” 

“Sure.” Arthur brought John’s mouth to his and kissed him deeply, tilting his head so their mouths slot together as though they were made to. John moaned when Arthur lapped against his tongue, hand coming down to grip and pull at Arthur’s hair. It was getting a little heated and, in his arousal, Arthur shifted causing a sharp pain to shoot through his stomach. He hissed into John’s mouth.

The younger pulled away, breath laboured. “Shit. You okay?? I don't want to hurt you.” He gestured towards Arthur’s stomach and Arthur frowned, mad at himself for being so pathetic.

“It’s fine. I ain’t made of glass.”

“Yeah but ya stitched together like a rag doll.” John could see Arthur tenting the blankets and felt a little bad. He did start this after all. It would be quite unfair of him to leave the man unfinished, also John really wanted this too. “Here, let’s try somethin’ else.”

John got up from Arthur's side and crawled under the blanket and between the man’s thick thighs. Arthur let his legs relax and pulled the blankets up so he could watch.

The sight alone was enough to bring his cock to full attention in his trousers. John nuzzled and kissed the outline of his prick, mouthing over the length of it. He paused and glanced up with eyes cloudy and full of lust, “be good and don’t move too much, or I’ll stop.”

Arthur bit his lip hard and nodded. He liked it when John was bossy in bed. 

John gripped the sides of Arthur’s trousers and gently pulled them down so they were bunched just below his arse cheeks. Cock now free from it’s cotton imprisonment. John’s hands then grasped at Arthur’s hips as he opened his mouth, dragging his tongue from the base to the tip. He hungrily lowered his mouth, engulfing most of the hard length. His tongue pushing and rubbing at the underside of the head. 

Arthur’s hand flew to his mouth. Teeth clenching the skin at his knuckles, causing it to bleed as he tried with all his might not to scream or buck up into the warmth of his lovers mouth. Thankfully John’s hands were keeping his body steady. The wet, all consuming heat felt amazing and the sounds coming from under the blanket were absolutely obscene. Arthur had missed it all.

The younger man’s talented hands got to work, kneading his balls between his fingers as the other rubbed and squeezed at the part of his cock that couldn’t fit in his mouth. John hummed against Arthur’s flesh as he began leaking down his throat. The vibrations making the older man’s skin prickle with goosebumps.

“Fuck, John.” Arthur growled against his hand as he watched the show, there was a throbbing pain in his wound but he wouldn't let John know. He couldn't let this end.

John had taken his hand from Arthur's sack and had leaned sideways a little, giving himself access to his own cock. He rubbed it as he sucked and licked at the length in his mouth. Moans escaping his throat, saliva running down his chin and between Arthur’s thighs. 

The whole scene was too much and with a strangled moan Arthur came hard and heavy down the other man’s throat, it was a sweet mix of ecstasy and pain. John took it all and swallowed everything down as he continued to pump his own erection. He removed his mouth from Arthur’s softening cock and bit into the flesh of his thigh causing Arthur to yelp loudly as John came against his own hand. 

Both men were covered in sweat and were panting hard when the door suddenly flew open and Sadie burst in, a look of horror and concern across her face.

“I heard a scream!! Is Arthur o— oh...” she paused, eyes wide as her pupils darted around at the scene before her. John quickly put himself back into his pants and threw the blanket back over Arthur to help the man keep at least a little modesty. Both men’s faces were red with embarrassment.

“We was uh… I was just checking on his stitches….” John stuttered and Arthur laughed loudly at the absurdity of the whole situation. “Yup, lookin’ fine!” John said lifting the blanket to look at the bandage. 

Sadie stepped backwards towards the exit. “Yeah, I’ll come back later… glad to see ya doin’ well, Arthur.” She then slipped out of the room, closing the door quickly behind her. 

“Everything ok in there?” Arthur and John could hear Charles asking from the other side of the wall.

“Uhh, yeah. Just, maybe don't go in there for a bit.” Sadie responded. 

John wiped his hand on the blanket and shook his head in disbelief. “Well that was awkward… I’m sorry.” He said shifting from between Arthur’s legs to his side again. “I guess Sadie knows now…”

“I don't care about who knows no more. I’m just glad we’re together” Arthur took John’s hand into his own and kissed it gently. “Plus the look on Sadie’s face was worth it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a fun time writing this. I really love exploring how John and Arthur might act in a relationship. :D
> 
> Anyway I hope you all enjoyed this and hopefully the next chapter will be out soon!


	6. Rescue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karen stepped forward with the flyer, pointing it printed-side out for everyone to see. Arthur’s eyes widened with disbelief.
> 
> “It’s a notice of a public hangin’ today at midday… Bill Williamson, Javier Escuella and…” Karen paused a moment to gather her nerves and then continued “…and Dutch van der Linde”

Today was the day. It was time to finally leave America behind them. The gang had been held up in the abandoned house for several days as they waited for Arthur’s wounds to heal and, at long last, the man was well enough to stand and move around in relative comfort. 

The Pinkertons had since moved their search for the remaining van der Linde gang members to Saint Denis and everyone was on edge and anxious to leave. Fearing getting caught if they didn't get out soon. 

The captain of the boat they were hitching a ride on had been paid half up front and briefed on the plan. In the dead of night they would make their way to the boatyard in small groups of three or four, sticking to the shadows as they made their way to the docks. They had to be as quiet and unremarkable as they possibly could. Any kind of attention was unwanted. 

For now though, all they could do is prepare for the long journey across the ocean and wait for nightfall.

“What do ya think Tahiti’s like?” Uncle asked as he idly picked at his scummy toenails with a knife. 

“I heard it’s like paradise.” Mary-Beth swooned. “White, sandy beaches, always sunny and the perfect temperature all year round.” 

“That’s quite the pretty picture ya paintin’ there, Mary-Beth.” Arthur commented sarcastically as he stood at the back of the room, arm raised as Abigail changed and dressed the bandages on his stomach one last time before they set out. “Where’d ya, hear that? One of ya story books?”

Mary-Beth twiddled her thumbs and looked down at her feet like she was nervous, “well actually I heard it from Dutch.” Her voice was quiet. She knew mentioning that name anywhere near Arthur would set him off. 

She was right. 

“Yeh, well Dutch was a deluded fool.” Arthur scoffed, “he could spin shit into gold with just a few words if he wanted to. Good riddance, I say.” It was obvious Arthur was still hurting over Dutch’s betrayal and everyone would tiptoe around the subject, avoiding the man's name or any reference to him at all costs to avoid upsetting him. 

“Arthur, give the girl a break. She’s just excited to get outta here. We all are.” Abigail frowned as she stood up, packing away the medical supplies given to them by the doctor. 

Arthur grunted in response, grabbing his blue cotton shirt from one of the crates nearby and pulled it back over his head with a wince. The wound was healing just fine but it still hurt like hell on occasion.

Then the door burst open so hard it caused dust to fall from the walls and ceiling. John, Karen and Charles rushed in, squeezing through the door frame all at once. Karen was waving a flyer in her hand and the three of them started talking at the same time. It was difficult to understand what any of them were saying and it was giving Arthur a headache.

“Calm down,” Arthur instructed as everyone else stood and came over to see what the commotion was about. “One at a time, please.”

Karen stepped forward with the flyer, pointing it printed-side out for everyone to see. Arthur’s eyes widened with disbelief. 

“It’s a notice of a public hangin’ today at midday… Bill Williamson, Javier Escuella and…” Karen paused a moment to gather her nerves and then continued “…and Dutch van der Linde are to be hanged in the central courtyard for the crimes of murder, theft, random acts of violence, torture…” she continued on until Arthur tore the flyer from her hand, ripping it up in front of the group. 

“Arthur?” John said from behind Karen, disappointment clear on his face. 

“What, John?” Arthur growled angrily as he threw the paper to the floor. “You wanna go save that traitor? He left you to die and lied to my face about it… lied to everyone. He was more concerned with ego and money than with gettin’ us out safe and alive.” Everyone was quiet. They knew Arthur had a point about Dutch. 

John stepped forward getting up in Arthur’s face, “and what about Bill and Javier? What did they do to deserve this?” 

Arthur had no response to that, words stuck in his throat as he tried to think of a reason. He had nothing against Javier and Bill, in fact he quite liked both men but his mind was so clouded with anger that he wasn't thinking straight. 

“What Dutch did was fucked up,” John continued, “but the man’s sick in his mind and Micah took advantage of that. Dutch raised us from boys, Arthur, he deserves a second chance.” John took Arthur’s hand within his own and squeezed it tightly, never taking his eyes from Arthur’s. “Please?”

The fairer haired man was struggling with what to do. He wanted to make John happy more than anything but another part of him wanted to watch Dutch swing. In the end his anger won and he ripped his hand from John’s.

“No. That's final.” 

“No?” John said with a sneer. “Fuck you, Arthur. I’ll go get them without ya then.” John turned, snatching his gun belt from the crates by the exit and left, slamming the door behind him. 

“Sorry Arthur.” Charles said softly as he opened the door. “I’m with John on this one…I’ll make sure we’re back before sundown.” He then disappeared from the room. 

“Fuck…” Arthur swore under his breath as he paced back and forth. Everyone else was staying out of his way as they watched him. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” He ran a hand through his hair and let out a frustrated sigh, turning to Abigail. “Pass me my guns please, Abigail.” His voice full of defeat. 

He wasn’t doing this for Dutch. He was doing this for John.

Abigail smiled and gathered his pistols, rifle and repeater and helped Arthur to equip them. “You be careful now, don’t go actin’ a hero, you still ain't fully healed.” She warned him sternly. 

“I know, I know.” Arthur placed his hat atop his head, “get Sadie to meet the Captian right now, tell him there’s been a change of plans. We will be bringing the boys straight to the boat and then we leave. Make sure you’re all there with the money and supplies before we arrive.” Arthur paused and bit at his lip a moment while he thought. “If we ain’t there by three o’clock leave without us.”

“Arthur, no…” Abigail said, shaking her head.

“I can’t risk gettin' y'all caught or killed. Just listen to me for once.” Arthur turned and left the building to catch up to John and Charles. 

He didn't have to go far as the two men were waiting just outside in the alleyway.

“No shit, you were right.” Charles laughed, chucking John some money and a packet of cigarettes. Arthur was confused. “He bet me you’d come to join us, I didn't believe it, but here you are …” Charles explained.

John was smirking to himself as Arthur glared. He was such a little rat. Arthur fucking loved him. He really would have to tell him that sometime. 

“Just shut the fuck up and lead the way.” Arthur said with a lopsided smile, seeing the humour in the moment. He really would do anything for John and John knew it. “We got thirty minutes to get to the courtyard.”

The three men made their way through the town, avoiding lawmen as they went. There were a lot more posted than usual, making it harder to get to their intended location. The sheriff had obviously beefed up security for the occasion. Arthur had a feeling it was because he knew they’d try some grand rescue. It was making him nervous. 

Finally they arrived at the courtyard, hanging back behind one of the buildings across the cobblestone road to avoid being spotted. John pulled out his binoculars and surveyed the area. “A’right… looks like this is going to be pretty tough.” 

Arthur rolled his eyes, snatching the binoculars from John. “Ya think, Johnny?” He then peered through them himself. “I see one, two, three… about ten guards in the court, then we got at least fifteen more monitoring the streets… this is such a dumb idea…” Arthur couldn't help but voice his concerns. He moved the binoculars to the stage and saw their three long lost friends with rope hung loosely around their necks, and another familiar face. “Agent Milton’s up there with the boys.”

“I’ll take down as many as I can silently on the streets around the courtyard,” Charles said pulling his bow and arrows from his shoulder. “When I get to the brick fence just there you two come out and we’ll take care of the rest.” John and Arthur nodded and Charles quickly and quietly left.

John pulled his pistols out, ready and waiting for their turn to move when he felt a hand on his chin, turning his head so that he was forced to look into his lovers clear blue eyes. 

“Be. Safe.” Arthur instructed, gripping the younger man’s chin roughly. “Don’t be stupid out there.”

“Arthur, ya gotta trust me.” John said, eyes softening as he pulled Arthur’s hand down from his face. 

“I do, I’m just…afraid.”

“Well don’t be,” John said with affection, leaning up to place a quick, soft peck on the other man’s lips, “we got each other's back, remember?”

Arthur smiled. He remembered.

Time was escaping them and Arthur checked his pocket watch when they heard the sheriff begin reading his speech to the crowd below the stage. “Five minutes. C’mon, Charles.” He said under his breath. 

“Look, there!” John pointed at Charles who was running towards his position, giving a thumbs up in their direction. The two men pulled their bandannas up and then snuck across the road. No one was paying them any mind, everyone was too busy waiting for the show. 

Charles and Arthur quietly grabbed the two guards at the entrance, stabbing them in the throat and laying them gently down on the ground, but it didn't matter in the end as the sheriff had seen them, the stage giving him a good view of the courtyard. 

“They’re here!” The sheriff shouted at the guards. “Capture them, dead or alive.”

Bullets were now whirling through the air in their direction. Civilians were screaming and pouring out through the main entrance making it hard to see into the courtyard.

“You go get the boys,” Arthur instructed John who nodded and headed left, shooting his pistol at a lawman as he went. “We’ll take care of the guards from here.” 

“Roger.” Charles responded and both men stepped out from their cover, guns blazing. They had to keep the guards distracted while John cut the three men down. 

John had made his way to the stage with relative ease and had pulled his knife out to cut at the rope as fast as he could manage.

“Son, are we glad to see you.” Dutch said, relief written all over his face as John worked at the rope above his head.

“Watch out.” Bill shouted and John looked up. Agent Milton was heading his way, gun pointed directly at him.

“Step away and put your hands up.” The man said sternly, “make one move and I will shoot.”

John let go of the knife. It dropped to the floor at his feet. He took a step back from Dutch, hands above his head. 

“Now if only all of your kind were this cooperat—” Agent Milton never got to finish his sentence as Dutch, who had grabbed one of John’s pistols from his hip as he was cutting him down moments ago, had shot him directly in the chest. Milton’s unmoving body fell to the wooden floor with a thud.

“Well that was anti-climactic.” Javier laughed. 

“He was really starting to get on my nerves.” The oldest man smiled, “now please, John. Cut us down.” 

John shook off his shock, picked up his knife and got to work freeing the three of them. He handed his second pistol to Javier and Bill got the repeater. 

The men joined Arthur and Charles at the courtyard gate and the six of them began making their way towards the docks, shooting any guards that came their way until the coast was clear.

“Arthur.” Dutch tipped his head to greet the man. “You’re the last person I expected to see today.”

“Don’t think this means we’re family again.” Arthur said bluntly. “I did this for John. Not you.”

“Okay but ya bleedin’, son.” Dutch looked at Arthur’s stomach which made Arthur look down.

“So I am…” he touched the wet, red patch on his shirt and brought his hands up to inspect the blood on his fingers. He must have popped a stitch or three in the excitement of it all. “No matter, let's go.”

The docks were near but they couldn't risk drawing the law in that direction so they had to take a more stealthy long-winded way to their location. Arthur checked his watch once more. Two thirty. They were making good time. 

“Okay, one at a time, sneak around the containers and onto that boat.” Arthur pointed to the large, black boat in the distance. “Tell ‘em ya goin’ to Tahiti and they’ll let ya on. John, you first.”

John rolled his eyes and sighed, knowing Arthur was making him go first because he wanted to make sure he was safe, but he didn't argue. After John was Bill and then Javier.

Dutch was next to leave and as he was about to move across to the next lot of cover Arthur grabbed him by the wrist roughly, yanking him back. “If you pull another stunt like you did back at Beaver Hollow I will not hesitate to put you down, ya hear me?” His voice was a growl and Dutch looked genuinely worried. 

“I’m so sorry about all that, Arthur. I truly am.”

“I don't wanna hear it, just don't do it again.” Arthur shoved Dutch forward and both of them made their way through the docks. 

Everyone had made it onto the ship and were greeted by the rest of the gang. 

”Glad to see you finally made it, gentlemen.” Sadie said patting John on the back. “Looks like I missed out on a good time.”

“Go, go.” Arthur demanded at the driver who started the engine. The ship workers raised the ramp, preventing anyone else from getting on just as a small group of guards rode up to the docks. They were shooting at the ship but it was in vain as it had already begun to head its way further into the river and away from Saint Denis. 

It seemed as though they were finally, truly safe and everyone collectively cheered, danced and embraced in pure joy and relief. It was the first time in a long time Arthur could remember them all so happy. 

John joined him at his side and smiled. “We did it, Arthur…we’re fuckin’ free.” 

Arthur wrapped his arm around John’s waist, bringing him close to kiss his temple. “It’s a weird feelin’, finally not having to worry about the law. Kinda doesn't feel real.”

John nodded and then pulled away. “Now let's get you patched up before we have another near death experience on our hands.”

*** 

That night on the boat there was a huge party. Music, singing, alcohol and food. Everyone was laughing and having a wonderful time. Even the ships staff had joined in.

Arthur was sitting away from everyone, watching John play with Jack when Dutch joined him, sitting on a crate across from him.

“Thank you, Arthur, for coming back for me and the boys. I am in your debt.” 

“Like I said, it weren’t for you.” Arthur shrugged. 

Dutch sighed and pulled out a box of cigarettes from his chest pocket. There was a brief silence between them before Dutch spoke again, “This feels familiar doesn’t it?” The elder man lit a cigarette and offered it to Arthur who took it without a word. “Let’s hope Tahiti is a lot nicer than Guama.” He lit another, for himself this time, and took a deep puff.

Arthur took a drag too and blew the smoke in Dutch’s direction but remained silent. Truthfully he was a little worried that Tahiti wouldn’t be all that they’d hoped it would be but he wouldn't dare say it out loud. Not when everyone was so hopeful for once. 

“So, you and John, huh?” Dutch said awkwardly. Arthur wondered when he would bring that up. He knew Dutch was trying to reconnect with him. Feign interest in his life to get him to accept him into the gang again. 

“Yup.” Arthur said as he mouthed at the cigarette before pulling it away again. “There is something so pure and good in that man, somethin’ you or I will never understand. He makes me want to be better.” Arthur found himself speaking without meaning to. When it came to John he couldn't help himself. “Plus, he is excellent at fuckin’.” Arthur smirked at Dutch who choked on his cigarette, eyes wide and cheeks tinged red with embarrassment. 

Arthur got to his feet and dropped his cigarette on the ground, putting it out with his boot. “Go join the party, Dutch.” He patted the man on the shoulder and left him on his own with that image in his mind. Arthur made his way towards John, who was now looking over the edge of the ship, hands gripping the railing so tight his knuckles were going white. It was obvious he was uncomfortable being surrounded by so much water. 

With a sneaky smile, Arthur tiptoed up behind his partner and gripped his waist, jolting him forward like he was going to throw him into the water. There was no worry of that as Arthur had a tight hold on him but John still yelped in horror. Turning around quickly with his brows furrowed.

“Ya fuckin’ arsehole.” He exclaimed, punching Arthur hard on his chest. “That ain’t funny.”

Arthur laughed deeply and raised his hands in peace “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” His arms found their way back to John’s hips and he leaned forward, whispering against the other man's ear. “Enjoying yourself?” He nipped John’s earlobe and took into his mouth sucking it lightly. 

John melted against him and nodded, snaking his arms up and around Arthur’s shoulders. “Stop teasin’.”

They brought their foreheads together and John closed his eyes as their bodies swayed, ever so slightly, to the music being played by Javier on one of the skippers guitars. 

The moment felt right. 

“John.”

“Yeah?” The man blinked his dark eyes open to look into Arthur’s blue ones. 

Arthur had never felt more nervous but he knew if he didn't get this out now he never would. So he blurted it out as fast as possible, “I love you.” he bit his lip and leaned back as words continued to vomit out of his mouth “but, uh, if ya don't feel the same way you don't have to sa—”

“Arthur, shut up a minute…” John laughed, putting his hand up to cover the man's mouth. 

John paused with a big smile on his face before he finally responded. “I love ya too, idiot.”

Arthur sighed with relief and John moved his hand from his partner’s mouth and closed the gap between them. Lips coming together in a sweet kiss. 

Right now, Arthur didn't think life could get any better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took me a loooong time to write haha but I had a fun time doing it.  
> I hope you all enjoy the Chapter! <3


	7. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It don’t feel real yet, does it?” 
> 
> John turned around and smiled at Arthur who was leaning against the doorframe. 
> 
> “Kinda feels like a dream. I keep wonderin’ when I’m gonna wake up back in Beaver Hollow with the Pinkertons right on our heels…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha this chapter is basically porn... enjoy ;P

John stood at the open window of their new shack and watched the ocean waves lap against the white sand beach, mug of freshly brewed coffee in hand. A sense of peace and calm was flowing through his body and soul and he wondered if this was how it felt to be free. 

They had been in Tahiti for a week and while it was a tough transition at first they were finally settling in and accepting this new world as their own.

The gang had found it hard adjusting to their new surroundings during the first few days. Everything was different to what they were used to. The people, language, culture, weather and land. They were struggling to find anyone who would accept their money let alone speak with them. The group got lucky when they happened upon a young, American man who was selling his late father’s plot on a hill facing the ocean. He was desperate, wanting rid of the land so he could move back home to America. He jumped at the chance to take the groups money. 

The plot was large and mostly prepped for farming. The structures needed some love and care but they were more than happy to put in the hard work to make it liveable. The men got to work fixing and repairing the leaky ceilings and patching up the holes in the walls, well, besides Uncle who had suddenly caught a bad case of lumbago. He sat back and encouraged them on from the sidelines. 

Even Dutch, who, in the past was known for giving orders, was putting in effort. It was obvious he was remorseful about what he had done and was trying to make it right again.

Abigail, Mrs Grimshaw and some of the other women then turned the house into a home with newly crocheted quilts and pillows, freshly picked flowers and home cooked meals. It was slowly starting to come together.

The large main home in the centre of the plot became the central hub for the gang. Whereas Arthur and John had taken one of the little sheds on the hill and had begun transforming it into their own little hideaway. 

The shed wasn’t anything special yet but John already loved it.

“It still don’t feel real, does it?” Came a voice from behind. 

John turned around and smiled at Arthur who was leaning against the doorframe. He was shirtless, chest glistening with sweat, having been working on the fence framing their new land. He was quite the sight. 

“Kinda feels like a dream. I keep wonderin’ when I’m gonna wake up back in Beaver Hollow with the Pinkertons nippin’ at our heels…” John turned back to the window and took a sip from the mug. He heard Arthur shift from his position at the door. His footsteps nearing. 

Arthur snaked his arms around the younger’s skinny waist and pulled him close, John’s back flush against his chest. “Well, there's one way to tell if this is a dream or not.” The older man said as he leaned his chin on John’s shoulder.

“Oh, and what’s th— Oww!?” Arthur had pinched the skin just above John’s hip and John elbowed him in the side in return. “You’re such an arsehole. That’s gonna bruise.”

Arthur laughed loudly, rubbing gently at the sore spot. “See? Not a dream.”

John rolled his eyes and placed his now empty mug on the dresser to his right, “we should probably start helpin’ with the repairs.” 

“Or…” Arthur began peppering soft, playful kisses down the side of John’s neck, “we could stay here a little longer?” he brought a hand down from John’s hip and slid it under the waist band of his trousers, splaying his fingers through the coarse hair below his belly. “Y’know, we haven’t even Christened the new bed yet?”

A soft sigh escaped from between scarred lips as he tilted his head back to lean against Arthur’s shoulder. “Ya sure ya ain’t too tired like last night?” John smirked and Arthur scoffed. 

“I’m the one who built the bed last night while you seemed to have caught lumbago off Uncle.” Arthur removed his hand from John’s trousers and trailed it up his chest and neck to grip at his jaw, turning the scarred face towards him. John whined in protest but Arthur put a stop to that with his mouth, hungrily kissing the newly accessible lips. John responded eagerly. 

As the kiss continued Arthur brought both hands down to John’s hips, pulling them back just a little so John could feel his hard length between his cheeks. Arthur rocked his hips and the other man sighed, pressing back, his own cock quickly filling in his pants. 

Arthur pulled at his hips again, this time much rougher, causing John’s torso to lurch forward, arms reaching out to grasp at the window frame to stop himself from falling all the way out. The cool, salty breeze was brushing though his long black hair as he turned to look back at the other man.

“Careful…” he warned and Arthur softly chuckled, leaning forward to press kisses from John’s neck to his lower back. They hadn’t had sex for weeks and it was clear Arthur was desperate to release his pent up frustrations. 

“Sorry, baby boy.” He hummed as he placed one last kiss on the dimples above John’s arse. ”now that we don’t have to watch our volume, I wanna try somethin’.”

Confused, John tried to stand upright and turn around, but Arthur wouldn’t let him, placing a large hand to his back to keep him bent over against the window frame. “If you don’t like it, I’ll stop.”

John nodded and turned back around, facing the ocean. He felt as his pants were pulled down, stepping out of them so Arthur could throw them to the side. Then his cheeks were parted. 

“Spread your legs a little wider.” Arthur said quietly from behind and John obliged. Arthur rewarded him with a wet kiss on his left arse cheek.

At this point the two men had seen each other naked too many times to count but John had never felt more exposed. He was spread and laid bare and while it was a little confronting, he also found it extremely erotic. He tilted his head to look back over his shoulder and gasped at the sight of the other man on his knees behind him. 

“This is a nice view.” Arthur noted with a cheeky tone in his voice. 

“What are you…ahhh!” John’s whole body flushed and tingled as Arthur’s strong, wet tongue licked a stripe up between his spread cheeks. He'd never felt anything like it. He pushed back, protruding his arse out further, begging for more. 

“That Okay?” Arthur asked from behind and John nodded frantically. 

“Yes, yes. Do it again.” He begged and Arthur did, licking another strip, this time stopping at the hole to kiss and suck it. He poked at it with the tip of his tongue a couple of times and, noticing that John was rolling his hips for more, pushed it in further. 

John all but screamed and rested his forehead against his arm, which was folded on the windowsill, back arching as he pushed back against the man’s face. He needed more. John had no idea where Arthur had learned of this but he was thankful he had. Being eaten out to the view of the ocean before him was not something he ever thought he wanted until now. 

The thick, wet muscle worked at his tight puckered hole, pressing in and out, in and out, stretching him nicely before leaving completely. John groaned at the loss of the sensation and turned, watching as Arthur wiped the saliva from his mouth and chin and got to his feet. 

“Don’t stop, jerk.” John panted from where he was bent over. 

“Well if ya gonna be a little brat then I’m surely not gonna continue.” Arthur slapped John’s arse cheek hard enough to sting and John moaned. “Now, come ‘ere.”

Arthur stepped back and sat on the edge of their new bed, reaching a hand forward. John straightened up and followed, feeling as Arthur gripped his arse and pulled him close. John was now standing between his lovers legs, his erect, leaking cock pointing up at the older man’s face, begging for attention.

“I am so lucky, y’know.” Arthur said softly as he took the length into his hand, squeezing and stroking at the base. John watched through his dark eyelashes and bit his bottom lip when Arthur brought his mouth down to the head, lapping at the crown. Soft little ‘ah’s’ and ‘ooh’s’ escaped John’s throat without his permission as the man took the length into his mouth, sucking and hollowing out his cheeks.

John had to grip Arthur’s shoulder to keep himself steady, legs threatening to give way at any moment. He couldn't last much longer if this kept on and John really wanted Arthur inside him before he finished. He needed to feel full. 

“Please Arthur, I need ya to fuck me already.” John demanded, voice weaker than he intended as he was so overcome with the sensation of the warmth around his cock. 

Arthur gave John’s prick one last suck and pulled off, a string of saliva briefly connecting them together before it snapped.

“So impatient.” He laughed and, as he stood he grabbed John, flinging him over his shoulder. John let out an embarrassing squeak at the unexpected action and then another as he was thrown onto the mattress. The bed creaked loudly under his weight but the solid wood frame held up. Sometimes John would forget how strong Arthur was. He was such a big bear of a man and it just turned him on more. 

He laid on the bed where he fell, spread legged and watched as Arthur unbuckled his jeans pulling them down to reveal his throbbing cock and John let out a loud moan of appreciation, not caring about the volume like he normally would. They were so secluded from the others in this little house of theirs. It was perfect. 

“Like what ya see?” Arthur joked as he allowed John to drink in the sight. 

“It's a’right.” John teased. 

“Oh? Just a’right? That’s it, you’ve asked for it.” Arthur quickly crawled onto the bed and over John’s body, hitching the man’s legs up over his elbows and began tickling his ribs. 

“Fuck, Arthur stop.” John half laughed half cried, body squirming and writhing under the bigger man. He slapped at Arthur’s arm’s and chest, “Okay, Okay, you win. I’m sorry.” He laughed with tears streaming down his face. 

Arthur stopped and bit John’s shoulder hard, leaving teeth marks deep in his flesh. “I always win.” He quickly placed a kiss on the reddening skin and brought his head up to lick between John’s lips, encouraging the man to open for him and when he did he slipped his tongue inside, lapping at John’s tongue. John closed his mouth around the wet muscle and sucked suggestively, causing Arthur to moan.

“Get the vaseline.” John instructed as he let go. For once Arthur didn't argue, he stretched over the bed to the side table and pulled out the little tub, quickly coating his fingers and his cock. He brought his hand down between John’s legs and worked a finger inside, then another. John was already partially prepared thanks to Arthur’s talented tongue. John watched him and panted as he rolled his hips down against the digits, soft little gasps falling from his lips. 

“I fuckin’ love you, Marston.” Arthur exclaimed like he couldn't contain the words and John sighed happily, bringing one of his hands up to run his fingers through the thick, sandy brown hair atop his lovers head.

“Love you too, Morgan.” John kissed Arthur deeply as the elder man took his fingers from his hole and replaced them with his cock. Pushing in gently, the head popping through the tight ring of muscle first which made it easier for the rest of the length to make its way in. 

John loved the sensation of being stretched and filled with his lovers cock and let out a deep growl as Arthur bottomed out. He brought his arms up and around Arthur’s shoulders, hanging on tight. They both paused briefly, panting into each other's mouths before Arthur began rolling his hips.

“Harder.” John begged. Arthur brought the man’s legs up higher and started to thrust, pulling almost all of the way out before snapping forward, the power of his hips causing John’s body to push up the bed.

Arthur’s cock hit that spot deep inside and John screamed, nails clawing into Arthur's shoulders, breaking the skin as he pushed down trying to force Arthur’s prick against that spot again. Arthur hissed but didn't stop. He was too close to stop. 

“Don’t stop, I’m going to come.” John cooed, pure bliss coating his husky voice.

Their sweat slick bodies continued to move and rut against each other and their breathing became more intense as they both neared their climax. Arthur couldn't hold back any longer and, with one last thrust, he came deep inside John’s body, pumping his hips as the last of his seed filled the man below him. 

He took John’s prick into his hand, stroking it, helping John to climax with a loud moan moments later, the raven haired man’s come pulsing between them and puddling onto John’s chest and stomach. 

“Fuck.” John sighed, resting his arm on his forehead as he caught his breath. Arthur placed a kiss to John’s chest and then gently pulled out, rolling into the bed next to his partner. Both men breathing deeply and loudly. 

“Where’d you learn that thing earlier?” John asked, breaking the silence. 

“Mmm?” Arthur cocked his eyebrow as he turned his head to look at John. “Oh, saw it in a paintin’ an old friend of mine made, ya like it?”

“I could get used to it.” John laughed and rolled onto his side. Bringing a hand up to trace the long, fresh scar on Arthur’s stomach. 

“This is the first time we’ve made love since that day…” John said idly, “I missed it.” 

Arthur watched him through tired and content eyes, “well we have all the time in the world now, John. We’re home and safe.” He brought a hand up to grab the back of John’s neck and pulled him in close for one last kiss. “Now lets get washed up and see to the repairs before the others think we’ve both been infected by Uncle’s Lumbago.”

“I call first bath then,” John laughed and quickly sprung to his feet, running to the bathroom before Arthur could beat him to it. 

“Such a brat…” Arthur shook his head and laid back down smiling to himself. Tahiti really was paradise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End.
> 
> Wow, this was the longest piece of writing I’ve ever created and only my third ever Fan Fic. I’m so thankful for everyone who took (and takes) the time to read through this. If it wasn’t for your lovely comments I’m not sure I would have finished it. 
> 
> I had a lot of fun writing it and learned a lot about writing in the process. I can’t wait to do more. 
> 
> I really just wanted a happy ending for my favourite boahs and hopefully I’ve done them some justice. 
> 
> Thank you again for reading!!! <3

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. I hope you’ve enjoyed it.  
> Feel free to leave any comments and/or Kudos!


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